


Saved in the Lick of Time

by DancesintheWind



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Healing, Hurt Stiles, Kissing, Licking, M/M, POV Derek, nuzzling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-09 23:23:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancesintheWind/pseuds/DancesintheWind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pack just finished a battle but where's Stiles? Derek searches for him and finds him in dire conditions. pre-Sterek</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saved in the Lick of Time

 

 

 

The fight was over.  They had won.  They all met back at the cars.  They had left the vehicles in the woods and walked on foot to the battle.  

Derek inspected his pack.  Jackson had a few bruises on his face that were already beginning to heal.  Isaac's shirt was torn and bloody from claws but his skin underneath was flawless.  Allison, Scott, Lydia, Boyd and Erica were all fine.  Stiles -- where was he?

"Where's Stiles?"  Derek demanded, pissed that the human wasn't with the group.

_God, that shit is always getting into all sorts of trouble._

He heaved a sigh through his nose, irritated that Stiles was keeping him from going home.

"Scott,  take Allison and Lydia home then meet up at the loft.  The rest of you, loop back and find him," 

He watched the pack stiffen with the order but followed it all the same.  They all understood the danger. It could be that Stiles just wandered off or got side tracked but it could also be something else. 

  

NNN    NNN   NNN   NNN   

 

Derek tracked through the woods, hunting, searching.

Why had Stiles left the group? What distracted him so much as to lure him away from the safety of the others?  Why is Stiles always doing this?

 Derek shook his head and focused on the task at hand, silently reprimanding himself for getting distracted.  He would yell at Stiles when he found him.  

Stiles' scent became stronger and stronger as he weaved through the trees.

There! Movement!

Derek saw a taller man standing over Stiles.  He had Stiles pressed up against a tree, holding him in his arms with one thigh pressed in between Stiles' legs.  His mouth whispered next to Stiles' ear but Derek could only hear Stiles' frantic heart beat.  

While it looked like secret lovers meeting in the woods, bodies pressed together and legs and arms intertwined, he could make out Stiles' wide, fearful eyes and hear his frantic heart beat. 

_Who was this man to threaten those that are mine?_

His anger intensified but shifted away from his irritation with Stiles, to rage toward this man.

Derek felt his face involuntarily shift, teeth elongating from his gums and face scrunching into his more primal being.  He knew that his eyes had changed colors because Stiles locked eyes with him and something akin to relief flooded his features.

Stiles' widening eyes gave away Derek's position and the man turned quickly to see who was behind him. It was one of the hunters from the warehouse.  He must have sneaked out during the attack and chaos.  But what? Why would he even stop to bother with Stiles when if he didn't, he would have been able to escape unnoticed and with his life?

After the man turned to keep the wolf in his sights, Derek was able to see the man's hand around Stiles' throat and a knife to his mid section.  The boy's eye brows were furrowed, the skin around his mouth tense as Derek and the hunter stared at each other. 

A low growl rumbled out of Derek's chest and the hunter's hand tightened on Stiles' throat. It seemed to be too much, making the teenager squirm and whine, crawling with his human fingers at his throat.

"Back off or I'll kill him," scratched the hunter.

Derek took a step forward anyway.

"He's human. You woudn't murder him," he snarled, trying to speak clearly around his fangs.

"He's a werewolf sympathizer, your little bitch to fuck.  He's worse than you, dog. I would be doing the world a favor," the man spit on the ground.

_Protect what is yours!_

Derek took another step forward, now only 3 paces away from the man.  Derek was able to see it in the man's eyes a split second before he shoved his knife up to the hilt into Stiles' abdomen. 

Everything that happened next was a blur.

Stiles cried out and clutched his mid section, already soaking with blood. 

Derek's roar erupted out of his throat as he lunged forward in fury. In one smooth movement, he slid his claws into the man's abdomen, reached all the way through to his spine and ripped pieces of it out.  Blood and sinew splattered across the area and the man crumpled to the ground. 

By the time he stepped over the hunter, Stiles had slid down the tree to the ground. 

Derek had his face in his neck, breathing in his scent as he quickly ran his hands over Stiles' body, checking for other injuries besides the obvious one.  When he was satisfied that the rest of Stiles was okay, his hands quickly pressed firmly into the wound.  He kicked the body at his feet aside, moving him with the respect he deserved.  

He lay Stiles down so he was flat on the ground. 

"Stiles," Derek whined.  Derek's hands were already soaked in blood. Stiles pressed his hands over Derek's, whimpering with pain.  His laboring breaths were obvious as his shoulders heaved with each in take of breath.  Even with Derek's firm and most likely painful pressure on the wound, blood continued to soak into Stiles' shirt and leak through Derek's fingers.  The stench was unbearable, sour and salty; his wolf whimpered, smelling death on Stiles.  Derek raised his face to the sky, letting out one long, deep howl, signaling the the rest of the wolves that he has found him and too come.  

"Derek," Stiles managed, clenching his teeth together with pain as he strained to talk, "did we win?"  he couldn't help huff in endearing frustration that even at a time like this, Stiles was thinking of the pack.

"Yeah, we won," momentarily at a lost with Stiles' circumstance.  He couldn't lose him.  What would he do without him?

"Good," he tired to smile, by grimaced instead.  

Derek quickly moved in closer.  Stiles was losing too much blood.   If Stiles didn't get help right away, he was going to die.

"You have to hold on Stiles," Derek implored, "just hold on,"  he swallowed thickly, afraid of what was going to come next.

The rest of the wolves arrived within minutes, using Derek's howl as a locator.  They whined and moaned, smelling the death that clung to Stiles' skin.  They hung back, in a loose circle around the pair, waiting to see what their alpha would choose to do next.   

Derek peeled back his hands and gently pulled Stiles' shirt up.  The shirt was in the way and needed to be taken off for this to work.  With care, he slowly removed Stiles' shirt, gently ripping it with his claws before pulling it off the teenager.  Stiles' voice hitched, giving away the only sign that he was in pain.  He leaned in and sniffed the wound.  He could already smell infection but that was the least of their worries.  He had lost a lot of blood and needed the wound to be closed now, or he would die.  Derek grimaced and looked away for a moment.  

"Am I going to die?" whispered Stiles, as he peered down to Derek who was kneeling over him.  The wolves whined their distress.

"No," Derek murmured.  He gently lay his hands on Stiles' hips, holding him for down for this next part because it was going to hurt.

He moved his face in closely to Stiles' side, nuzzling the skin before tentatively licking at the wound.  Stiles' breath hissed out from between his teeth as he moved his hands to rest in Derek's hair.  Derek sniffed the wound again and gave it another lick.  He could feel Stiles' fingers burying themselves in his hair and could hear his panting, it grated on his ears, a constant reminder that Stiles' life was teetering on the edge of death and damn, he didn't want to lose him.

Derek administered another lick, dragging his tongue over the whole puncture wound and then going back over it with short, fervent licks.  Nuzzling Stiles' side again, this time in apology, he slide his tongue into the wound, lapping at the clotted blood and licking away infection.  Stiles' writhed in his grasp, crying out and begging Derek to stop. If he could have, he would have stopped and held Stiles in his arms, holding him and kissing his brow.  

_Whoah._   _Where did that come from?_   He had to stop thinking like that.  

It was painful to see and hear Stiles' this way, especially since he was the one causing all the pain, but he had to keep going.  He had to save his life.  He felt Stiles tug on his hair, fingers curling on his scale as Stiles begged for Derek to just kill him.  Derek closed his eyes in anguish, tightening his grip on the boy's hips and continued to slide his tongue inside the wound until he was certain all infection was gone.  

Now that the wound was clean, Derek busied himself with sealing it.  Stiles sighed above him, seemingly also glad that the painful part was over.  He licked, slurped and sucked at the wound.  The point was to cover it in his saliva.  Derek has a natural ability to heal with super human speed, and since his saliva was also a part of him, it could be used as a heal salve, to speed the process of healing for others.  He continued to lick and suck at the wound.  Without intent, Derek began massaging Stiles' sides with his finger tips, humming reassurances to the teenager as he healed the wound. Stiles seemed to try to hold back his moans as he felt Derek's lips move over his skin but Derek could still hear him.  

Stiles was breathing heavily, his hands were buried in Derek's hair, combing and massaging his scalp, as if to apologize for the tugging from earlier. He had his head bent, watching Derek lick his wound.  Derek's eyes were closed but he expertly licked and nuzzled his way across Stiles' middle, his swollen lips red and tingling. 

Derek was almost finished with his work.  He sucked on the cut, pulling the edges together and running his tongue over the fracture, sealing it with a thin scab.  He pulled back and admired his work.  Stiles might have a thin scar for the rest of his life but he was going to live.  

The wolves howled in appreciation, cheering and mingling, exuberant in Stiles' now obvious recovery.  

Derek looked up at Stiles, who was grinning and looking back down at Derek, still kneeling beside him.  His hands still rested on his sides, moving his fingers in circles.  With his eyes locked on Stiles', he leaned over, planting delicate kisses over the scab.  Stiles gasped as he watched Derek.

"All better," he whispered huskily.  A warm feeling settled in Derek's stomach as he noticed Stiles' flushed skin and parted lips.  

"Thank you," although the words were simple, they hung heavy in the air.  

Derek gave a small, rare smile in response, and turned his head quickly, gently nipping Stiles' fingers with his teeth before giving one last kiss to the teenager's wrist, feeling Stiles' strong pulse there, a sign of his life.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Comments are really appreciated.
> 
> Story text altered and edited on 08/27/2014


End file.
